Fracture
by Miss Saigon11
Summary: This is the story of blood.This is the story of death.This is the story of heartache.This is the story of betrayal.But this is also the story of loveThis is the story of strength found in the places least expected.This is the story of a great revolution.
1. Prologue

**Hey alls. So I'm back again and bringing you the beginning of a new story. Again. But this isn't the Mortal Instruments story that I planned on nor is it one of the million bajillion Inuyasha stories that float around in my brain either.**

**Lol, I'm really killing myself with all these unfinished stories, aren't I?**

**No, this fic is for the video game Tales of Vesperia. I just recently finished watching Tales of Vesperia: The First Strike and I was such in a Vesparia mood that I started playing the game again (i had stopped after Schwann was being a jerk and wouldn't keel over). And at the same time I was learning about a revolution in history. I was totally hanging on every word that the teacher said since I love learing about this revolution and that tied in with my Vesperia mood spawned this. So this will be based of a revolution, though I won't tell you which one just yet. Hopefully you can figure it out yourself. **

**With the ideas that I have for this fic I really don't think that this will work out well without the ToV characters. I mean, Yuri's personality if perfect for the role that I'm casting him in. As is Flynn's and Estelle's. I wouldn't get the same feeling if I stuck Jace in Yuri's position or Miroku in Flynn's.**

**So I'm just posting the prologue at this point. The ToV community on here is rather small so I'm not asked for more I won't write more. I mean, if that happens I'm still going to update this for myself of course, but it'll only be at my own pace and when I feel like it.**

**I hope that whoever reads this enjoys it because I have such high hopes for this.**

**And of course if you've read my other stories you'd already know that there has to be romance. It's a recurring theme of mine so it's kinda what identifies me as a writter on here.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own or make money off of Tales of Vesperia. This was made purely for fans by a fan. It is in no way sponsored, approved, endorsed by, or affiliated with Namco Tales Studio or Namco Bandai Games, or any other affiliates.**

**Flames are welcome.**

* * *

Prologue

There is always one person or object that people hold high above their heads in pride. They are often referred to as a 'secret weapon' or 'the key' and in some cases 'the crown jewel.' There is always one. In the world of Terca Lumireis, the so-called 'crown jewel' takes the form of none other than the Capital city Zaphias. Zaphias is the home of the emperor and from the outside the city sparkled brightly in the sunlight. The influence and pride of the empire rode upon the sun that streamed through the jewel and fractured into millions of brightly colored rainbows that stretched out to all three continents of the vast empire.

But people are so blinded by the glitter and rainbows that they fail to see the darkness that's licking at the heels of the city. They don't see how the jewel is slowly deteriorating from the inside out. The darkness spreads, slithering through the crevices of the cobblestone street until it latches onto one of the many rainbows and is carried out where it takes root in another city of the empire. It digs down and down, securing itself in the very roots of the city where it begins the slow poison.

And soon enough, a shadow passes over empire, a shadow that no one notices until it passes high over head, blotting out the sun and encasing the entire world in an everlasting night.

There is a city where red wine that falls in the street runs in rivulets between the fractures in the streets like blood that people throw themselves upon to ease the sickening pain in their stomachs. There is a city where crime rate goes up and the cause is a tiny piece of bread. There is a city where the dust of a once glittering jewel blows somberly over the empty streets, into the tightly shut windows of houses, and sticks itself upon the soles of dirty bare feet that take hollow steps towards their equally dirty homes.

And watching from high in his tower resides a man who has accumulated some of the glitter of years past but has twisted and deformed it in to the glint of a wicked smile.

This is the story of blood. This is the story of death. This is the story of heartache. This is the story of betrayal. But this is also the story of love. And friendship. This is the story of strength found in the places least expected. This is the story of hope that rises when times seem hopeless. This is the story of light that shines in the darkest of places.

This is the story of the commonly played good versus evil.

This is the story of the greatest revolution of our time.

* * *

**So like I said, this is going to be the only chapter in this story for a while unless people ask for more.**

**I thank you very much for taking time to read my fic. It means a lot to me. Now if I might ask one more favor of you, please leave me a review to tell me what you think, especially if you think something needs to be improved on.**

**Blessings!**

**Miss Saigon11**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey, I've returned with an update!**

**I haven't updated anything in so long that it feels so good to be uploading this. I haven't really been able to work on a lot of my fics and that's really upsetting me. I don't know what it is. I can't stand this totaly lack of motivation and inspiration.**

**Ugh.**

**Ok, moving right along. **

**I've mentioned before that I was basing this fic of a revolution that I learned about in History and because of my complete interest in it, I've decided to work it into an English project that's going on right now. I chose a subject from the revolution and decided to do my research project on it. Plus I was hoping that the information that I found would give me some great ideas for this fic. And it did. But the information I found was so horrible I almost burst into tears while reading it during class.**

**Second thing. I've added an oc in this fic. Now that's something that I don't normally do but I felt that this person would fill the role of someone from the revolution just perfectly. Her name is Celestina and she's supposed to be a childhood friend of Yuri's and Flynn's. And that's all I'm gonna say about her.**

**Third thing. I still won't tell you what revolution this is based off of but I implore you to try and guess!**

**Last thing. I've set up a formspring account where you can go and ask me anything. It could be about the fics I'm writting or it could be about my favorite color or something. Or if you're just looking for advice pop in and post it.**

**Here's the link: **

**www . formspring . me / kiracanseeyou**

**make sure to get rid of the spaces!**

**And yeah, I mean Kira from Death Note.**

**So please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own or make money off of Tales of Vesperia. This was made purely for fans by a fan. It is in no way sponsored, approved, endorsed by, or affiliated with Namco Tales Studio or Namco Bandai Games, or any other affiliates.**

**Flames are welcome.**

* * *

He blended into the shadows almost completely, but if you looked hard enough you could see the slight reflection of light gleaming in his eyes. The constant dripping of water in the distance was the only sound that could be heard. Then minutes later the sound of footsteps resonated loudly off of the stone walls. Off in the distance a tiny speck of light flared up and grew closer as the footsteps grew louder. He unhitched himself from the wall and straightened up. As he did this, his foot came into contact with a shallow puddle, splashing the water and dampening his foot. By this time the figure with the light was standing right in front of him, the fire from the candle flickering softly.

"You're early," whispered the figure in a voice that could only be female.

"Or maybe you're just late," was his deep reply.

The figure raised the candle she held and the light illuminated his face.

Violet eyes were hidden behind a curtain of black bangs. The rest of his hair fell to about mid back and forelocks curled around his shoulders and down the front of him. His eyes were set above prominent check bones, separated by a sharp nose that led down to a mouth that was slightly curved downward at the moment. From his strong jaw came a neck that was set upon hard, rounded shoulders that traced a line down his chest to a slim waist. The muscles in his arms and legs were long and lean, speaking of a life of labor and heavy lifting.

A black tunic donned his torso, cinched at the waist with a brown leather belt. The top few buttons were undone, revealing his throat and bit of his chest. The front hemline brushed the tops of his thighs and the back hemline stretched to hand just above his knees. Sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and black pants disappeared into boots with the buttons undone. And clutched tightly in his left hand was a long sword.

She could have been his twin. She had the same dark hair and eyes with olive skin. They shared the same long and lean figure. However they weren't related in any way. He was born in the Capital. She mysteriously appeared at the entrance to the Lower Quarter 13 years before when they were seven.

A dark cloak with a deep hood shielded most of what she wore but he knew her well enough to guess. She would be wearing a green tunic with the sleeves cut off and the hem falling just below her waist. A thin, brown belt would be wrapped loosely twice around her hips, punctuated with a single dagger with a curved wicked blade. Simple brown pants would cover her legs and tucked into make-shift boots she fastened out of black tape and tough old leather.

"Are you alone?" he asked her.

"Yes. Are you?"

He smirked. "Of course not."

As if on cue, a single small orb bobbed into sight. A dark pupil shone in the direct center. The eye jerked sharply to the left, as if the owner had tossed his head, and something gleamed to the right of the eye. Soon a large dog stepped into the light cast by the candle. A harsh scar slashed down the left half of his face, forever closing his left eye. There was a pipe hanging between his teeth and a sheath housing a blade was strapped to his side. The dog made a guttural noise and shook his head vigorously.

"Repede," the girl said. She looked back up at the young man in front of her. "So? I'm here; what is it you wanted to tell me, Yuri?"

"Celestina," Yuri said as she crouched down. He ran his hand across the ground, sifting the loose dirt and bits of rock from the crumbling walls. His hands wrapped around two, good sized rocks and raised them. He idly began shifting them around as he searched for the words he wanted to say. "You know what's been going on, haven't you?" When Celestina didn't answer, Yuri placed his other hand on top of the rocks and started rolling them between his palms, applying pressure with each passing second. "This…place. It's making me sick. You know yesterday there was practically a massacre in the streets for a bit of spilled wine? And another one died today. Saw him on the corner street that leads to the shops." Celestina still didn't say anything. Suddenly, Yuri threw the rocks against the ground. The sound was intensified from the stone surrounding, making the clattering sound more like shattering glass. He took a sharp breath and his ears strained for even the smallest sound almost instinctively. Repede whined, sounding as if he were reprimanding Yuri. Yuri pushed himself to his feet and looked Celestina directly where he knew her eyes to be. "Something has to be done. The knights aren't doing anything. Flynn isn't doing anything."

Celestina pushed her hood back, revealing eyes that looked so much like Yuri's. "What are you saying, Yuri?"

Something glinted in Yuri's eyes and it had nothing to do with light from the candle. "You know exactly what I'm saying."

* * *

Purple light of the early morning snuck through the curtains. The sun was still a ways off, he knew, and yet there was just no way that he could sleep any longer. His eyelids flutter open, revealing two bright, blue irises. He laid in his warm bed, staring up at the ceiling of his room.

He then threw off the blanket he was wrapped in and stood up, noting vaguely that he hadn't changed out of the clothes from the night before. He frowned; he was neater than that. A light swear dropped from his lips as he padded over to his closet. The first thing he saw when he pulled back the doors was an old scarlet tunic from his life in the Lower Quarter. The sight stopped him for a moment as thoughts from the night before seeped back into his mind. Something was clawing at the very edges of his mind's eye—a forgotten dream or an old memory—but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what. He shoved the tunic all the way in the back of the closet and pulled out a fresh blue shirt and cream colored pants, provided for him by the knights.

After he shrugged on the clean clothes, he headed across the room to the door. A part of him told him to stop and put on his boots but something was propelling him forward and he didn't stop.

* * *

The soft bristles of a rosewood brush scraped lightly against her scalp, pulling her platinum hair back. The strands threaded through the bristles and fell lightly back into place, ending just beneath her jaw. "What does my lady wish to eat for breakfast this morning?" said the owner of the hands.

The young woman, no more than eighteen, hummed as she thought for a moment. "I think I would like some poached eggs and scones, please."

"And as for the tea?" the young woman's lady in waiting asked, still running the brush through her lady's hair.

"Oh…Hannah, I'm not sure…it's all so good."

Hannah set the brush down on the young woman's vanity and took her lady's hair into her hands, intent on doing it up in an appealing way. "My lady, if I may make several suggestions?" The lady nodded her head, allowing her lady in waiting to continue. "Ceylon has a very nice aroma, although Assam is very good as well. Also, Keemun has a very fruity taste. And of course there is the always good Jackson's Earl Gray."

The lady giggled and closed her eyes as she relished in the tenderness in which Hannah guided the pins into her hair. The ministrations were soothing and put the lady in a relaxed state, one that she was fairly accustomed to after her eighteen years of being princess. "Then I should like Earl Gray, please."

Hannah stepped back and admired her work; she had pinned her lady's hair up in a way that was both appealing and illusory, making her hair look much longer than it was. She stepped to the right side of her lady and curtsied. "Very good, Princess Estellise. I shall inform the cook." Then Hannah turned on the low heal of her shoe and headed for the door. But when she placed her hand on the knob, she paused. "Oh, by the way, your brother, the emperor, has called for you. So please hurry up and eat and then meet with him, my lady."

Estellise turned just in time to see Hannah's retreating form before it was blocked by the door falling silently back into its place. The young princess turned back to her vanity and gazed at her reflection; at the strategically placed loose tendrils of her platinum hair that framed her face, at the luster of her green eyes slightly accented by colored powders and dyes from pots that littered her vanity surface, at the blue drop earrings that brushed gently against her skin, and the silver chain around her neck, punctuated by tiny but many silvery blue stones that refracted small beams of light. And as she gazed she read the question in her eyes and voice the same one in her mind: What on her earth could her brother want?

* * *

The sun was high over head, signaling the mid-day break that many workers had become accustomed to taking. Merciless rays beated down on the backs and bent necks of young men and women alike as they trudged along the streets either on their way to small shanties or to rummage around for food.

Yuri had bid farewell to his childhood friend Celestina at the gate that separated the western wing of the Lower Quarter from the main square and continued on to the place he slept at night. There was a room above a lowly bar that lost hundreds of gold every day. The bar was dingy and run down but was also one of the very few places that one could get bread that was only a little bit stale and cheese that was infested with only four to five maggots for a price that wouldn't be too much if you had a pocket full of cash. And the room was small and homely, but to Yuri it was his home; nothing more nothing less.

But first he bypassed the outer steps that led to his room and entered the bar. An older woman looked up from where she had been cleaning a dirty glass. The woman smiled, sending laugh line after laugh line to crease in her face. The sight of such a friendly and warm smile chased away all the dark and bitter thoughts that had clouded the young man's mind for the better part of the last six months and Yuri couldn't help but smile back. He strode across the bar and sat down at a stool right across from the woman.

"Afternoon, Yuri," she said in a raspy voice, deteriorated by age and the consumption of dirty air and rancid food. "Is there anything that I can get for you?"

Yuri hesitated, his eyes flickering to other customers in the bar. Only a few were eating and the rest were sitting at tables, hunched over. Some carried on low conversations with the person sitting across from them. Some were fiddling with a loose piece of thread from their clothing, no doubt to keep their mind off of the sharp pain in their stomachs. And there were others that were huddled in the corner, sleeping, coughing, or just trying to find a safe place to be at peace. There was one good thing about bars in the Lower Quarter: Imperial Knights never thought to stop in them.

A pang of guilt stabbed at Yuri as the thought of him eating something while there were others in this tavern that was starving. But the low growl that came from his abdomen accompanied with the sharpness of hunger pains reminded him that despite everything that was going on, he too had to do whatever it took to survive.

"Is there anything that you can spare?" Yuri asked, digging in his pocket and producing three copper pieces. The woman took the pieces and disappeared behind a small door in the back. Seconds later she reappeared with two pieces of moldy bread on a chipped plate and a small glass of water from the river that flowed through the main square. Particulates were floating in it but it wasn't like Yuri cared. It wasn't like any of them cared. He had just finished swallowing the first bite when he felt a tugging on his sleeve. He looked down and saw tiny fingers curling into the worn fabric, owned by a young boy of about eight. The look in the young boy's eyes was a mixture of hope and pleading with a smaller tone somewhere in the back.

Of course; the boy was hungry. And there was food right there. Yuri sighed but didn't hesitate to slide the plate of bread closer to the boy. The boy's eyes lit up as he took a piece and began eating it quickly. And as he did that, Yuri noticed something.

The pleading and hope in the boy's eyes from when he was begging had disappeared altogether when he was given the food, as was the smaller, mysterious tone behind them. It was then that Yuri had figured out what that feeling was; he had given up. He had given up on ever living a life of ease and comfort that he didn't have to spend every morning waking up and wondering if he'd get a meal that day or if he'd suddenly be turned onto the streets or if he wouldn't wake up at all.

And surly enough when all the bread was eaten and the glass of water guzzled down, the look of giving up had returned. Because everyone knew that two pieces of bread only lasted for so long. It was only a matter of time before they all died of starvation.

And whose fault was that? Angry words bubbled up at the base of Yuri's throat but he managed to hold them back by biting down on his tongue. The tangy taste of blood splashed across his taste buds and he suddenly realized that he had pierced the sensitive skin of his tongue. Yet he didn't care. Instead, his head snapped to the window and he sent a cold glare in the general direction of the Royal Quarter and the Palace, home of the aristocracy and home of the problem. While the people of the capital city starved they gorged themselves on gourmet meals. While the people of the capital city died before their time they spent countless amounts of money on cosmetics and powders that would reduce their wrinkles and give them a look of eternal youth. While the people of the capital city tasted blood and hungered for more they tasted ignorance.

Yuri stood up and nearly knocked over the stool in the process. The woman gave him a concerned look. "Yuri, you always act like some sort of older brother to everyone here, but when was the last time you took care of yourself? Or let someone take care of you for you?"

The anger inside him died down a bit as he turned back to the woman standing behind the bar. "The people here need me," he answered her though she gave him a look that clearly said his answer was bull. He tried to reassure her with a small smile. "Really; I'll be okay." And with a small wave, Yuri took a step to leave.

"Oh Lord," the woman said as soon as Yuri's figure disappeared behind the door. "Let that idiot boy be right."

* * *

Yuri bounded up the steps that led to his room above the tavern, eager to lie down on his bed and relax. Maybe he'd get a few minutes to close his eyes and just rest, a luxury that he couldn't afford nowadays.

But when he turned the knob and pushed open the door, all thoughts of rest and relaxation jumped right out the window. Yuri's eyes widened in surprise yet he didn't bother to school his expression. The young man sitting there on his bed knew him better than that and would be able to read through any expression.

"Flynn," Yuri said. His voice had gone up an octave from surprise.

"Yuri," said Flynn in greeting.

Seconds ticked passed as the two long-term friends took in the sight of one another. Six months had gone by since Yuri and Flynn had any contact with each other. Those six months ago Flynn sat in the very spot in Yuri's room, the only difference being that Yuri was sitting next to him and he was wearing a scarlet under a beat-up jacket, not the uniform of a knight like he wore now.

"I'm going to the castle to become a knight," Flynn had told him. His eyes were wide and full of determination. "I'm going to become a knight and fix this problem from the inside."

Yuri had been skeptical about the whole idea. "The problem isn't because of some fluke in the government; the aristocracy is the problem, including the knights. If you join them, then you'll become just like them. You wouldn't be able to resist having three meals a day."

"Don't you see, Yuri?" Flynn followed. "That's exactly why I have to go. Coming from here, I'll never forget that. I'll always remember how it felt to have hunger pains, how it felt to see those starving children on the side of the road, and how it felt to see for the first time a dead man in the middle of the street. The aristocracy can get a first-hand insight into what's going on here and maybe something will happen so we can fix it."

By that time, Yuri had pushed himself off the bed and was now standing at the window that looked out over the river that ran through the Lower Quarter. "That sounds like a fantasy," he told him. "I don't believe that they are going to change, just because someone from here asks politely." Yuri soon heard footsteps and felt the vibrations on the floor and he knew that Flynn had gotten up.

"I came here today to tell you my plan and ask you to help me," he heard Flynn say.

"Then I guess you don't have to ask now, do you?"

"No," came Flynn's curt reply after a pause. "No I guess not." Footsteps retreated back followed by the door slamming. Outside, Yuri could see the tense posture of his friend as he walked in the crowd and he knew that he'd go to Celestina next. He also knew that her answer would be the same as his.

That was the last time he had seen him and those were the last words that they shared. Not exactly the optimum way to go when there was the possibility of never seeing your friend again.

Flynn stood up and crossed the room to where Yuri was. His arm was half raised as if he were going in for a greeting, paused as if he wasn't sure if there was a line that he shouldn't cross, and then returned his arm to his side.

Finally, Flynn spoke. "Yuri you look horrible; what have you been doing?"

Yuri was taken aback by the sentence. "What have I—I've been working! Out in the sun!" Yuri dragged his sleeved arm across his forehead, trying to get rid of the sweat that had broken out from the intense heat and labor. "You know, for money? To buy food?" The corner of Yuri's mouth went down in a frown. "Or did you forget? Did you really forget what it was like being from the Lower Quarter? Like I said you would all those months ago?"

Flynn's eyes widened a fraction as if someone had told him a terrible truth. "I…" he trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence. Then he turned his eyes back to Yuri's. "No. Of course not. Not a single day."

Yuri crossed his arms across his chest, not seeming to believe him. "Really?" His eyes casually drifted down to the floor and then back up to Flynn. "You're not wearing any boots. You know that, right?"

Flynn's brow furrowed and he looked down at his feet. Then he looked outright shocked as if he had suddenly realized that his feet were bare, as if the thought to put them on hadn't crossed his mind as he left.

"So anyways," Yuri continued, pulling a chair out from the small table off to the side. He turned the chair so that the seat was facing him and he straddled it, leaning against the back of the chair. "What're you here for? Been a long time. What? Didn't think to write?"

Flynn's hips hovered hesitantly over Yuri's duvet before he slowly sat down. "I just came here to ask something of you."

"Shoot," Yuri said as he laid his head down on his arm. "You should know the answer is probably gonna be 'no.'"

Flynn pretended to ignore that response and went on. "I overheard a conversation between the Emperor and a high ranking official. The Emperor is suspecting that something might happen." Twin pools of blue locked with ebony and the look in his eyes told Yuri that he was suspecting the same thing from none other than the one staring back at him. Yuri shouldn't be surprised—and he wasn't—since they had known each other for so long. "Yuri, as your friend, I'm asking you that you won't let anything stupid or violent happen; nothing that could endanger the citizens of Zaphias or the Empire itself. Now wait a minute," Flynn added quickly at the end when he saw the fire build up in Yuri's eyes. "I know what you're thinking—the Empire is already in danger. But the best thing would be to fix it peacefully on the inside, not try to tear it down from the outside."

When it became clear that Flynn was done speaking, Yuri began. "You're not going to ask me to join the Knights again, are you?"

Flynn shook his head and got to his feet. "No, I know a lost cause when I see one." He walked over to the door that led out of the room as he said: "I just don't want you to do anything stupid."

Yuri frowned, wanting to resent that statement but couldn't deny it. "Hey," he said before Flynn shut the door. Flynn turned back halfway. "Do me a favor and go visit Celestina. I'm sure she'd have a load to say to you, mainly through her fists." At the look of surprise on Flynn's face, Yuri smirked. "Don't worry; it's got nothing to do with what you have or haven't done."

Flynn responded with a weak half-smile and shut the door silently.

* * *

Folds of silk brushed against her legs as she walked uniformly down the hall. Her shadow rose high up against the wall from the sunlight that streamed through the many windows of the castle corridor and her footsteps were muffled by the velvet red carpet that covered the floor. And with each step the young princess took her curiosity rose higher and higher. Since her older brother had taken the role as Emperor they had spent less and less time together, only seeing each other during the dinners that he didn't spend inside the war room, discussing military tactics, so it was very rare that he'd call for her during the day.

But she was grateful for it; before their parents died, they had spent all the time in the world together, despite the large gap in their age, and had only strengthened the bond that they shared, one that no amount of political or military work could ever sever.

Estellise then smiled to herself as she neared her brother's private quarters. She pushed open one of the two large doors and peered inside. It was the sitting room that people gathered when waiting for the Emperor. And it was empty.

Estellise's smile faltered slightly as she scanned the room a second time. Surly there was at least one servant who would escort her to wherever her brother would be, right? Dismissing that thought as unimportant, Estellise shut the door and walked over to the smaller, less elaborate door on the right side of the room, his bedroom.

Before anything else, she knocked quietly. When no one answered her, she knocked again, this time placing her ear against the door directly after. Still nothing. She sighed.

Not daring to enter her brother's room without permission, she then crossed the length of the room to the door on the left. This was his private study, not a room she was against entering without permission. But still, she knocked first.

"Enter," a muffled voice from inside the room. Estellise griped the knob and did as so.

In the center of the room stood a grand mahogany desk and behind the desk was her brother. He was holding something in his hand and looking it over, a line creasing on his forehead. Whatever it was that he was reading it must have been very important. Estellise cleared her throat and he looked up. The line on his forehead disappeared. "Estellise," he said and stood up. "Please sit down. There's something I want to discuss with you."

His voice was hard and though the line on his forehead had disappeared, the look in his eyes was steely. Estellise nodded slowly and sat down on one of the couches that were set up as a small reading area. Her brother moved around from the desk and came to sit across from her. He looked directly at her with an expression that gave her the thought that he was about to tell her something, only he was still debating whether to tell her and how much of the story to tell.

"Things have," he began slowly, "difficult as of late." Then he paused.

"Um," Estellise said. "Is there a problem along the borders?"

Her brother's eyes glazed over for a second. "Yes," he said after a while. "Something like that." Estellise nodded and waited for him to continue. "Estellise, you're seventeen right now, almost eighteen. Almost of age to rule."

Estellise nodded. "Yes which is also something I wanted to talk to you about. Traditionally, the youngest sibling would be taught how to rule as well as the eldest, in case of, well, in case of something happening to the eldest. And," Estellise looked nervous, "and I was wondering why haven't I started learning?"

Her brother didn't answer. He looked taken aback by the whole statement. "I mean," Estellise added quickly, "not that I'm expecting anything would ever happen to you, I just—"

He held up a hand, cutting her off in midsentence. "Wait," he said, "you're interested in ruling?"

"I just want what's best for our people. I love them and I'd do anything to make sure that they're happy."

He didn't say anything else. He just got up and walked over to the window that overlooked the Royal Quarter and parts of the world beyond. Estellise's nerves came back. Though she couldn't read his thoughts she could read the look in his eyes, because she has seen them before, many times during their dinner together. He was calculating. She could almost see the gears turning in his brilliant mind as he processed what she had said, looking as if he were trying to find a way to use her words to his advantage. But she didn't know why.

"Estellise," he said after a while. The princess felt her shoulders hitch up as she looked up at him in attention. "I'm going to be brutally honest with you; you do not have what it takes to rule an empire. You are growing up yet you have the naivety of a child. Perhaps that is my fault for never letting you out of the castle walls." He turned to look at her. "I'm sorry but you are not fit to rule."

Estellise's eyes had widened during his speech but she didn't say anything. She was the princess and it was her job to obey the Emperor. So she simply nodded and got up. And without being dismissed, she exited the study. There was a prickling feeling behind her eyes and she knew that the tears were welling up, caused by her brother's hurtful words. But she kept her composure until she was at the other side of the castle in her own room where she locked the door and silently wept.

* * *

That was not what he wanted to hear. What she said threw a monkey wrench into his plans, created more complications in an already complicated affair. He'd have to do some more thinking and planning, foresee and weigh every possible outcome against the other to decide what the best route to take was.

And the worst part was he was running out of time. He could feel that something was happening; something deep within the city he lived in was brewing.

However, despite all of this, he grinned. But now he had a clear idea of where she stood in the whole matter. And with a little time, he could figure out a place for her, whether she was willing or not.

His grin only got wider as he looked back out over the city, thoughts coming and going, gears turning, and brilliant plans being made

* * *

**I won't tell you the brother's identity yet. ;)**

**So there's the first chapter. There really isn't anything else that I want to say that I haven't mentioned in the first Author's Note up top.**

**I really hope you enjoyed it and I'm so grateful that you took the time to read it! And if it isn't too much to ask, then please take out a little more time to send me a review. I work so hard to make chapters that you deserve and I'd love to hear what you have to say about it. And if you have criticism then please go ahead and say it! My work isn't perfect and neither am I. If I were pefect, then I wouldn't be in a human body.**

**Many thanks to those who read and reviewed the Prologue and gave me the confidence to hurry up and post this chapter:**

**JAGartist**

**Daniel Rayd**

**Chocomintkt**

**Blessings!**

**Miss Saigon11**


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